


Injured Bodies, Wounded Hearts

by EmoPenguin4



Series: Alcoholic's Intent [2]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Blood and Violence, M/M, Major Character Injury, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 07:37:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15214316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmoPenguin4/pseuds/EmoPenguin4
Summary: John encounters a sober Rook. Neither of them walk away clean.





	Injured Bodies, Wounded Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> This Rook is not for the faint of heart. Steel yourself or look away.

"Hehehehehe," Rook laughs as he guts a body, his knife performing a rectangular incision. The flap of skin on the stomach is about ready to peel off. He pries open the body with fingers jammed in between the muscles of his newest victim. 

"Garret!" A scream from somewhere to Rook's left catches his attention. John comes running, cheeks puffed and face red from the amount of sprinting he did to intercept Rook. John's eyes fall to the corpse at the mercy of Rook's knife and fingers. "What the fuck?"

Rook stands up and offers a bloodied hand and a bitter chuckle. "What's wrong, John? Isn't this what you do on a regular basis?"

"Garret, I..." John swallowed. His blood is running cold, probably because of the scene in front of him. A regular corpse with multiple cuts is tolerable. A disemboweled one, John has never seen and hopes to never see after this. "We need to talk."

"We're enemies," the tone of his voice is apathetic. "What do you mean we need to talk?"

"About when you visited me drunk..."

"I was drunk," Rook replies, his voice uncaring, unwavering. John is more used to this side for certain, but this is jarring to see after the drunk Rook. "And I have a county to liberate from you and your siblings. What's stopping me from ending you?" Rook walks forward, knife dripping and pointing forward.

John feels threatened. He could take this to a knife fight, but he's never had to try. Considering Rook's current mental state, facing him would be suicide. This blankness, this... terror. He's only ever seen it from afar. And for good reason. Now that John is close to Rook, there are too many risks to run.

"John, John. I hope you have your last will prepared," Rook runs his fingers on the flat of the knife, flicking off chunks of flesh. He slides forward, blade aiming towards John's throat.

At the last second, John pulls out his knife to parry Rook's incoming attack. "Garret, stop this now!"

"I would say you don't have the right to call me by my first name," Rook starts, already retracting his hand and winding up for another attack, "but we've done worse." Rook swings from his right and John readies his parry, but Rook switches hands in a moment and cuts John's right forearm.

"Fuck," John curses, already afraid of what will happen next. His main arm is injured much more than he's used to. He can still use it, but the pain would be far more stimulating than the need to survive. John holds his knife in his left. "So you're ambidextrous?"

"So you're almost dead," Rook replies, snapping his wrist forward and teasing John by flicking the blade closer and closer to his face. "Something tells me I would hate to see that pretty face scarred. Other things are telling me that you wouldn't mind the pain."

Rook strikes, giving John barely enough time to perform a weak deflection. "Come now, we can discuss this. I can keep you safe and secret so you won't have to betray anyone."

"You barely have strength in your opposite hand, are you sure you'll survive?" Rook swings heavy, not aiming to injure but to tire John. Each time, there's just enough force push back from an attack. "Your will to live is as big as your cult's body count."

"It's not a-- please consider my proposition." John is desperate to stop this. He could up and run, but he feels like he should be here with Rook for a reason. "You don't have to kill anyone anymore. You can be away from all the fighting if you just come with me."

"Tenfold Displacement."

Rook charges into John, and he tries to dodge. At the last second, Rook slides underneath John and slashes his right inner thigh. John's stance weakens. Rook takes his advantage again, cartwheeling to John and slashing during his rising motion. John takes a hit to his left arm, but manages to avoid the worst of an injury. Rook charges, knife at point, and John tries to make Rook stumble. It fails, and John gets slashed on the right side of his stomach. 

"Only seven more to go," Rook comments with an empty smile. "Can you keep up?"

John whips out a pistol as fast as he can to do a quickdraw shot on Rook’s arms. Rook's left arm is grazed, but his right arm takes a direct hit. "Shit," Rook mutters to himself. "You don't bring a gun to a knife fight."

"And you don't have to do this," John replies, left hand shakily holding up the pistol. "If you come with me now, I can keep you safe, absolve you of your sins. I-- we can help you. My siblings and I would be more than happy to help you if you put your weapons down."

"I would say you can't aim with that hand, but," Rook gestures to his right arm, "beginner's luck?"

"You know damn well you can't use beginner's luck when you're quick on the draw."

Rook laughs, flipping his knife in his left hand. "So we're going to just stand like this? A stalemate until one of us concedes?"

"Until you concede," John corrects. "I have a gun and reinforcements."

John had called for backup before running to see Rook. John's not sure why his men are so damn late, but he has an advantage as long as he keeps Rook at gunpoint.

"So you're taking me by force," Rook points out bluntly. 

"Yes," John replies without hesitation. Anything to have Rook. To keep him safe, to help him recover. "I could not stop thinking about you after that night. I felt something I've never felt in years. I thought years of sin would have completely eroded my emotions... but then you stumbled in, flushed as all hell."

"So?"

"I know for a fact that you wouldn't be like that if you weren't caring at one point in your life. When did you stop?"

"That's not for you to know."

Soon enough, a swarm of Peggies rush Rook in an attempt to take him down while disarming him. Rook struggles considerably for a time, growling inhumanly and trying to slip out by using blood as leverage. Eventually, John gives the order to incapacitate Rook. Then they bring him back to John's bunker.

John ordered his men to take care of Rook's wounds and make sure he was completely trapped, having no way to be set free. Time passed as John recovered from his wounds. He was tending to his thigh when he heard someone groan. "Awake yet, Deputy?"

Rook tests his restraints. Too solid. "What happened to calling me Garret, huh?"

"You did say that I had no right to call you that."

Rook groans. "Like I said, we've done far too much to worry about that. But call me whatever you like." Rook shifts and tries to get comfortable. "It won't matter when one of us dies."

John stands up and walks over to Rook. A comforting hand touches the Deputy's face. "No one has to die."

Rook considers biting John's hand off. "No one will approve of this."

"No one you know, at least."

Rook snarls and grits his teeth. "Let me go. This was easier when we were purely enemies."

John leans forward and touches his nose to Rook's, their breaths hot and heavy on each other's faces. "I'm allowed to be selfish. All is fair in love and war."

"I could headbutt you. Or bite you."

John smiles and leans forward, lips hovering over Rook's. "Go ahead," every syllable brushes against Rook's lips. 

Rook stares John down, showing no sign of emotion. He doesn't make a move to harm John. 

"And here I thought you were going to keep your word," John chuckles. He straightens and grasps Rook's chin, a thumb going over his cheek in slow strokes. "Something is stopping you from going through with it. I wonder what it is?"

Rook doesn't answer. He doesn't even move.

"I must go," John says. "Aside from needing to tend to my wounds, I'm also a very busy man."

"Busy murdering people."

"Same could be said of you." John gives a neutral grin. "I'll be back." John walks away, leaving Rook to simmer in silence.


End file.
